


Fire

by SoDoRoses (FairyChess)



Series: LAOFT Extras [124]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Blood and Violence, Implied/Referenced Sex, Knight Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, M/M, Non-Consensual Kissing, Victim Blaming, listen. no protags are evil but this gets DARK, the long awaited "roman goes apeshit" fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:35:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27191815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyChess/pseuds/SoDoRoses
Summary: “Remind me that the most fertile lands were built by the fires of volcanoes.”- Andrea Gibson
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil/Creativity | Roman/Logic | Logan/Morality | Patton, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Original Female Characters
Series: LAOFT Extras [124]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1365505
Comments: 29
Kudos: 341





	Fire

**Author's Note:**

> taking place a little more than a year and half after the main story (the winter break of Logan’s freshman year of college)
> 
> The formal combat I refer to here as a “duel” is actually much more similar to [trial by combat](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trial_by_combat). It lacks the distinction between criminal and civil case the way the trial by combat of the middle ages did, and so blends elements of both, as well as that of the Scandinavian [Holmgang](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Holmgang)
> 
> if you would like to skip the non-consensual kissing, stop at “He hadn’t really taken note” and pick back up at “The deer man screamed”
> 
> if you would like to skip the fight, stop at “Everything moved so quickly” and skip to “Could you repeat that?”
> 
> and a big thank you to [@airiervessel](airiervessel.tumblr.com) for betareading! especially for the tip to give yall the option to skip

Call him a sap, but Roman fell a little more in love with his partners every time he saw them. How could he not? Half the time Roman was pretty sure he was the luckiest man on earth and the other half he was certain of it.

So really, Logan had no business walking out of his house looking like this and expecting Roman _not_ to start waxing poetic.

“ _Look_ at you,” he breathed, taking Logan’s hands as he stepped off the back porch.

Flushing, Logan squeezed his hands back, smiling tremulously.

“So it- looks nice?”

“You look _stunning,_ ” said Roman, kissing him to punctuate it. “Utterly breathtaking, a vision in green, a blessing on my eyes-”

Logan flushed even worse.

“Virgil made it,” he said quietly. “And I was- somewhat concerned it wouldn’t look as attractive _on_ me as it did in the box-”

Roman ran one palm across Logan’s shirt at the hip – a pale, delicate shade of green and embroidered with Virgil’s characteristic silver thread in a pattern of leaves and flowers – thumbing at the soft, silky texture of the decorations. Now that Logan had said it, Roman thought he might have seen Virgil working on it a few times. Logan had also forgone his tie in favor of a silver and dark blue chain clip on the collar, and Roman honestly thought he couldn’t have looked more ravishing if he’d been actively trying to seduce Roman.

Which… well, considering the green, he might be.

“You look absolutely lovely,” said Roman. “And Virgil will be _delighted_ you decided to wear a gift of his to your first revel back. He might faint.”

“Don’t be absurd,” Logan muttered, slipping his arms around Roman’s waist and hiding his blushing face in Roman’s chest.

“Absurdly adoring of you.”

Logan let out a muffled giggle into Roman’s shirt, and Roman squeezed him around the shoulders. They stood there, swaying, for several long moments, before Roman let his hands slide down Logan’s arms to take his hands, pressing kisses to them one after the other, before locking their fingers and tugging him into the woods.

“Can’t wait to see his face,” said Roman, stroking Logan’s hand with his thumb. “Gonna have to pick his jaw up off the ground-”

“Hyperbole,” murmured Logan, elbowing Roman gently and clearly trying not to look too pleased at the compliments.

But Roman refused to be stifled, especially in the pursuit of complimenting his stunningly gorgeous boyfriend, so he kept up a steady stream of them so that by the time they approached the revel Logan was flat out crimson and looked like he might combust.

Virgil heard them coming, as he always did, he and Patton stepping into the trees to meet them. Patton dropped Virgil’s hand to run forward and throw his arms around Logan, cooing.

“You’re blushy!” he said, delighted. “Are we picking on Logan?”

“Maybe a little,” said Roman, the same moment Logan said “Yes,” and gave Roman a half-hearted, fond glare.

“Can you blame me?” continued Roman. “I only have so much restraint you know, it’s a wonder I didn’t just pin you to a tree and kiss you until we were late.”

“Oh my goodness, do you look just lovely!” said Patton, pulling back to hold Logan at arm’s length and look him up and down. “Oh, baby, you’re so _beautiful-”_

“ _Pat,”_ whined Logan, covering his face.

“No, no, don’t do that!” exclaimed Patton, standing on tip-toe to nuzzle Logan’s face. “Let me look at my Seelie fella, you’re just so _pretty,_ sweetheart, my poor little heart can’t take it.”

Virgil had reached them, punctuating Patton’s words by trailing his fingers down the side of Logan’s face, watching him with unashamed hunger.

“… Thank you for the shirt, dear,” said Logan quietly.

Virgil promptly plucked Logan right out of Patton’s arms and kissed him so enthusiastically he lifted Logan right off of his feet.

Smiling, Patton looped an arm through Roman’s and rested his head on Roman’s shoulder, watching Virgil and Logan with indulgent fondness and a not-insignificant number of once-overs.

Roman could relate.

Their fae partners broke apart with a pair of identical gasps, and Virgil nuzzled their noses together as they caught their breath.

“You look exquisite,” murmured Virgil, kissing him again much softer. “Thank you for dressing up for us, beloved.”

Logan let out a nervous giggle, nodding and pecking Virgil a final time before tapping his arm and smiling wryly.

“I am capable of walking under my own power, dear.”

Virgil gave an over-exaggerated huff, setting Logan back down on the ground.

“I could have carried you.”

“I know that,” said Logan. “It just- I would prefer to be taken even slightly seriously by the Unseelie.”

“I take you seriously.”

Logan’s whole face softened, and Roman couldn’t help but cross the space between them and loop his free arm around Logan’s waist.

“I know,” said Logan softly. “And I appreciate it. But we both know you are in the minority.”

Virgil looked distinctly put out, but he didn’t argue.

Instead, he moved to Logan’s side, offering his arm instead, and Logan took it with a bright smile that belied the winter weariness in his posture. Virgil led them, and Roman followed with Patton on his own arm as they made their way towards the revel proper.

It was uneventful, as revels went – no duels breaking out over some pretentious gentry taking a minor slight as a grave insult, no pookas squabbling over microscopic territory disputes, not even pixies overturning any furniture in fits of mischief.

But Roman felt… odd. Odd in the way he sometimes did when he saw through Dizzy’s eyes while he slept, an awareness outside of his own body. Roman preferred practical applications for magic over the more ephemeral kinds like divination, but no witch worth their salt outright _ignored_ an ominous feeling.

But it was hard to tell when something was just Roman’s probably-PTSD-but-we-don’t-talk-about-it acting up or when it was actual intuition giving him a nudge. Roman still wasn’t very good at telling the difference.

“I will return momentarily,” said Logan, rising from their bench. “I am out of wine.”

“I’ll go with you,” said Roman, maybe a little too quickly, but if any of the other three noticed, they didn’t say.

Lacing their fingers, Roman let Logan lead him over to the closest table - Logan was in a visibly cheerful mood, especially for winter, smiling serenely and occasionally swinging their hands. Roman wasn’t even sure if Logan noticed he was doing it, and he _was_ pretty sure Logan didn’t know he was humming very faintly.

Logan released Roman’s hand, slow enough it was obviously reluctant, and began examining the pitchers.

“The mulberry is sublime.”

Both of them startled – Roman, already mysteriously keyed up, was instantly on the defensive. Across the table was a gold and brown colored deer man, still sporting antlers even though it was getting a bit late for them. He was smiling, friendly and open, pointing at one of the pitchers.

There was nothing threatening about his body language – so why did Roman suddenly feel the urge to stab him?

Twitching, Roman shoved the impulse away. He didn’t need to be so _Night_ , not when they had so few friends in the court, especially among the Unseelie. Roman was fairly certain this deer man was an Autumn, though he wasn’t nearly as good at intuiting that as Patton was.

“I do not prefer the berry wines,” said Logan plainly. “The apple-based and floral ones are more to my taste. Your suggestion is noted and appreciated.”

The deer man inclined his head politely.

“I’ve seen the prince tend toward the knight Belladonna’s mead,” he continued, “It’s at the other end.”

The mead was not actually quite Bell’s, but rather an unholy concoction dreamed up between her and the Adams family, but they didn’t tend to advertise that. Regardless, Roman knew exactly which pitcher he was talking about.

“I’m not surprised you like the florals,” the deer man continued. “My sibling does, and is also a Spring – I should have guessed.”

Logan was hesitant – he always was with new people, fae or human, and Roman leaned over to press an encouraging kiss to his cheek. Anything that resulted in more people being nice to Logan was a win in Roman’s book, no matter that it made something anxiously jealous twist low in Roman’s stomach.

Logan turned to smile up at him, and when he looked away from the deer man, Roman saw the wary glance cast in Roman’s direction.

Ah. Right.

Roman hadn’t exactly endeared himself to the court with that little oath-breaking stunt – if the new regent had been anyone but Virgil, Roman would probably have been promptly executed. It wasn’t unheard of for Roman to make fae nearly as nervous as _Virgil_ did.

Roman considered for a moment, and then gave Logan another peck.

“I’ll go grab his, and be right back, okay?”

Logan gave him a slightly confused look, but shrugged and returned the kiss, to Roman’s lips this time. Roman couldn’t help but smile into it.

With one more parting squeeze, Roman released Logan’s hand and made his way to the other end.

A few minutes should be plenty to give the deer man a chance to relax. Logan had a few sprite friends who weren’t particularly fond of Virgil or Roman, and while pretty much nothing made them warm up to Virgil, that was usually enough for them to calm down around Roman. Logan was frustratingly tight-lipped about it, but Roman suspected they used the time to question if Logan was safe or felt pressured, which stung, but Roman couldn’t exactly be mad at them for it.

Bell’s insignia was nearly as familiar as Virgil’s, and much simpler. Roman hadn’t brought Virgil’s cup with him, so it took him several moments to locate a clean cup and then another to find his cleansing charm, a handkerchief he’d embroidered with sigils to rid any dishes of hexes or other nasty surprises.

He wiped the cup down thoroughly, poured a reasonable measure of the mead, and turned to make his way back to Logan and his new friend.

Roman’s blood was suddenly roaring in his ears – the deer man had moved around the table, one hand gripping so tightly at Logan’s shoulder the fabric was wrinkling, and Logan had his hands raised with a confused, alarmed expression, backed up against the table. The moment held – Roman’s stomach dropped suddenly in terror, and the fae kissed Logan square on the mouth.

And then all Roman saw was _red._

—

It happened so quickly Logan barely had time to react.

Logan had been confused by the entire interaction, but after Roman had moved away he’d become downright uncomfortable, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on why.

A comment on his shirt. Logan accepted the compliment and offered up that Virgil had made it for him.

The deer man had then asked if Logan accepted gifts from people other than the prince, which Logan thought was something of an odd question. He answered that yes, he did, gesturing to the chain clip and explaining it was a gift from Emile, though he didn’t use his friend’s name, of course.

He hadn’t really taken note of the deer man moving until he was… rather uncomfortably close, and Logan found himself backing up automatically, and then he’d been _grabbed_ and suddenly felt incredibly claustrophobic, his heartbeat thundering in his ears, and then there was an unfamiliar and _highly unwelcome_ mouth on his.

Logan froze, bile rising in his throat, and there was a space of time that might have been a fraction of a moment or several horrible minutes, before the body pressing – pressing, _pressing,_ Logan thought hysterically that he might be sick – against his was yanked back.

The deer man screamed.

And then Roman was there in front of him, face impossibly soft, close but not crowding and holding his hands out in offering.

“Hey, Specs,” he said, voice quiet and wobbling. “Can you take a deep breath with me?”

Which was how Logan realized he was hyperventilating, and the deer man was still screaming for some reason, and Logan’s stomach was churning and churning and his eyes stinging with tears.

Around Roman, Logan saw the deer man, and realized the reason for all the noise.

Roman had _pinned_ him, his iron knife driven straight through the Autumn’s shoulder and into the table.

“Hey, no, don’t even look at him,” said Roman gently, moving between them. “He’s not important, just look at me, babe, are you okay? Can I touch you?”

Nodding fervently, Logan couldn’t quite relax when Roman gathered Logan against his chest so Logan could hide his face, but he did feel marginally better.

He realized he was shaking the same moment familiar coolness pooled behind him – when he turned his head, Patton was standing beside him, face drawn in panic, and he could barely see Virgil in the corner of his eye, towering over the quickly-gathering crowd and _radiating_ rage.

“What happened?” demanded Virgil – his voice was barely above a whisper, low and deadly, but everyone around them instantly fell silent.

All but the deer man, who yanked against the knife in what Logan assumed was an attempt to free himself, which failed.

“Your Seelie- _slut_ was practically- _throwing_ himself at me is _what-”_ he spat between strangled shrieks of pain.

“I _didn’t,_ ” said Logan, the first word he’d spoken since Roman pulled the fae off him, his voice coming out shaky and thin – Logan was suddenly terrified they would _believe_ what the fae told them, that they would be upset with him-

“Of course you did, you-”

“I _didn’t_ ,” Logan repeated, eyes flooding with tears. “I didn’t, Roman, I promise-”

“Of course you didn’t,” soothed Roman. “I know, babe, of course I know.”

He kissed Logan’s forehead, squeezing him, and turned to look over his shoulder.

“If you talk to him again,” said Roman, his voice suddenly so flat and deadly Logan barely recognized it. “I will cut out your tongue and _feed it to you.”_

Patton visibly startled, looking at Roman in alarm. The Unseelie bristled – or at least as much as he could, still sprawled against the table, the smell of burning flesh growing acrid in the air.

“You can’t talk to me like that-”

“He can,” said Virgil, and the deer man finally fell quiet but for the occasional pained, strangled grunt.

Virgil placed hesitant hands on Logan’s shoulders, and Logan leaned back into it. Patton had both hands looped around Logan’s bicep, worrying his lip between his teeth and glancing nervously between Logan and Roman.

“Beloved,” said Virgil softly. “What happened?”

Logan tried to respond – he really did. But he couldn’t make his mouth move, his voice work. He hid his face in Roman’s chest and didn’t respond.

“Do you want me to tell them?” said Roman quietly – the contrast was dizzying. Gone was the unfamiliar blankness, and he was just as gentle and warm as ever.

Logan hid further, nodding.

“The deer man assaulted Logan,” said Roman, scratching lightly at the back of Logan’s head when he flinched. “He kissed him.”

Patton made a strangely sharp, almost bird-like noise that set Logan’s teeth on edge, counterpoint to Virgil’s nearly subsonic growl.

“It’s not my fault you can’t keep your damn pets on _leashes-_ ”

“You are already going to die for this,” said Virgil coldly. “So you really ought to consider how painful you want it to be before you keep talking.”

 _That’s unnecessary_ , Logan wanted to say, but he couldn’t even bring himself to look up. He felt like all the liquid in his body was freezing, cold and shivering, his stomach a solid block of frozen nausea. He could feel everyone watching them and he _hated_ it and he wanted it to stop and he still felt like he might throw up.

He was being melodramatic. It was one kiss.

So why did he want to claw his way out of his own skin?

“You aren’t going to kill me,” spat the Unseelie. “Everyone knows your little witch has no stomach these days-”

“Yeah, he’s _not_ going to kill you,” said Roman, cutting him off. “I am.”

The gathered fae had started murmuring again, but at that they fell quiet.

Patton placed a tentative hand on Roman’s arm, and Virgil shifted closer.

“… Roman,” said Virgil lowly.

“Let me do this,” said Roman, just as quiet. Looking up, Logan saw his face, set and blazing, looking right at Virgil with unwavering intensity.

Virgil looked back for a long moment before just barely nodding his head.

“L?”

Logan shuddered in Roman’s arms, swallowing around the lump in his throat. Roman reached out to cup Logan’s jaw and tilted his head up.

“Your call,” continued Virgil, tapping Logan on the shoulder.

Logan couldn’t look at any of them, his gaze focused firmly on Roman’s chin.

“Hey,” said Roman. “Specs?”

Logan still couldn’t bring himself to speak, but he did manage a thick, questioning hum.

Carding his fingers through Logan’s hair, Roman spoke with a level of levity that Logan was surprised he could manage.

“What’d you even pick a champion for, if not for stuff like this?” he teased gently. “Let me?”

Biting his lip, Logan considered saying no. They wouldn’t be happy about it – the incident with Sadie Wagner last year came to mind – but he knew that if he asked, they would de-escalate from actual violence.

 _Okay,_ he mouthed, unable to speak.

Roman kissed his temple, pressing Logan back into Virgil’s embrace and stepping away.

The second they stopped touching, Roman’s body language shifted. He turned, moving toward the still-pinned Unseelie in a gait that could only be called prowling, swift and silent. Grabbing him by the throat, Roman pulled the blade from his shoulder with a perfunctory yank, ignoring the howl of pain he got in response.

“On your feet,” spat Roman. “Or not – I’m not actually all that picky at the moment.”

The deer man shoved him off, scrambling to his feet and looking between Roman and Virgil with the very beginning of trepidation.

Something almost vindictive in the very bottom of Logan’s chest felt a tiny bit of satisfaction.

“What are you talking about?” said the Unseelie through gritted teeth, clutching his shoulder.

Roman grinned, sharp and burning.

“We’re dueling, Bambi,” he said. “Hope you don’t mind iron.”

—

Fights broke out at revels all the time, but Patton usually avoided watching actual duels. He’d always found them… well, a little extra, and unnecessarily violent. Really, didn’t there have to be better ways to solve an argument?

Patton was still a little nervous, but he was also probably… not nearly as opposed to this particular duel as he should be.

He wasn’t really sure how he felt about Roman killing someone on purpose – Virgil had killed a couple of fae before, but that had always been immediate, something he was doing in self-defense or defending the rest of them.

Virgil pressed Patton and Logan forward as the crowd cleared a wide space in front of the fire. Bell followed close behind, hissing in Virgil’s ear about the fae – who was called Noll, apparently – and everything she knew about him.

Virgil herded Logan and Patton to sit and then sat between them, gathering them against his sides and squeezing.

His hands were shaking.

“Sweetie.”

Virgil shook his head.

“He asked,” said Virgil, a little strangled, squeezing Patton’s hand in his. “I wasn’t – I didn’t want him to feel like I was ordering him around,”

Patton squeezed back.

Logan didn’t say anything, just curling small under Virgil’s arm and watching Roman and the stranger move to opposite ends of the cleared space in the middle of the crowd. Logan looked _terrified_ , and it made Patton’s throat feel cold, made him shiver with just how absolutely _furious_ he was.

The deer man didn’t look scared, really – mostly confused and a little wary, glancing between Roman, his iron knife, and Virgil with a sort of baffled look.

“Is this some kind of joke?” he demanded. “I’m to duel a _mortal?_ It’s insulting-”

Roman moved so quickly Patton jumped like _he’d_ been the one Roman had lunged for – there was a shout of pain, the _hiss_ of a burn, and the deer man staggered back, clutching his arm.

“Are you going to talk, or fight?” deadpanned Roman.

Everything moved so quickly – Patton felt like he was watching something on fast forward on Ms. Gage’s beat-up old VCR.

Noll lunged. Roman turned away – for a moment it looked like he was going to run, and Patton was confused for a half-second.

And he reached into the bonfire and threw a handful of cinders in the deer man’s face.

Blinded, Noll lashed out wildly and Roman dodged _forward,_ ducking under Noll’s arm, hooking one foot behind Noll’s and kicking it right out from under him.

Noll went down hard, landing on his elbow, a sharp _crack_ sounding even from this distance. The crowd was starting to pick up cheers, but Patton’s heart was thundering too loud for him to hear any of them properly.

“What is this?” said Roman, his voice light and unruffled. “Are you even trying? This is almost boring.”

“Don’t,” Patton heard Bell mutter almost inaudibly behind them. “Don’t you _dare_ get cocky, you bastard-”

With a roar of rage, Noll launched up from the ground, his head down and antlers poised to gore Roman right through the stomach, and Patton bit his lip to keep from shouting so hard he tasted blood.

Roman spat a curse, catching the antler in his hands – Patton saw a spray of blood from Roman’s palm, before he gripped and twisted and tore the antlers right off of Noll’s head.

Patton couldn’t help his shriek of alarm, but luckily it didn’t seem to distract Roman.

More blood trickled down the side of Noll’s face, but he didn’t seem in nearly as much pain as Patton would have guessed – he’d thrown himself backwards trying to get away from Roman, scrambling to his feet out of arm’s reach.

Roman tossed one the antler to the side and the other into the fire carelessly and crouched to pick up his dropped knife.

“Pretty,” said Roman, smiling. “Maybe I’ll make a knife out of _you.”_

“You think you’re so unsettling don’t you, playing at Unseelie-” Noll snarled.

“I’m not playing at anything,” said Roman, walking forward almost casually. “I’m not Unseelie. But you’re going to wish I was.”

Noll finally seemed to start taking the fight seriously, which didn’t make Patton a bit less nervous. He produced a shiny, silvery sickle, and Roman flipped his own knife around in his hand.

Noll ran forward – Roman was just barely too slow to dodge, swerving out of the way but taking a nasty looking slice to his cheek. Lunging again, Noll went for his throat - Roman caught the sickle on his knife and did a twisting motion Patton didn’t understand, and it spun out of Noll’s grip.

“You slippery, underhanded little-”

Noll’s snarling cut off with a howl of pain as Roman dove under his arms again and stabbed him through the back of the thigh.

But the same trick twice was a mistake, even if it had worked – Roman was too slow again, and Noll twisted, grabbing Roman around the throat.

It was so dark, and the bonfire light flickering orange – she’d basically been invisible until she was already on him.

Dizzy, a sudden dark blur coming out of seemingly nowhere, launched from the ground and climbed Noll’s arm with a screeching yowl – she dove for his throat and he shrieked, dropping Roman, and Dizzy leapt back down before he could grab her.

Half the crowd was whooping with excitement and the other was booing viciously, and Patton heard angry voices raised over the din.

“Cheating scoundrel!” Noll shouted, wiping blood off his neck. “He can’t have help!”

More boos picked up, and Patton got the feeling they were on the edge of something truly terrible breaking out. Roman and Noll had both paused – Noll was glaring at Virgil, but Roman only glanced at him briefly and then returned his gaze to Noll.

Virgil raised his hand, and everything fell dead silent.

“A witch and familiar are the same being in two bodies,” said Virgil, managing to sound almost bored even as Patton could feel his thigh shaking against Patton’s. “They are only one combatant. It stands.”

The last word was barely out of Virgil’s mouth before Dizzy moved again. Jumping at Noll and using his injured leg like a springboard, she visibly dug her claws into the open wound for a moment before leaping away again before he could grab her.

Roman and Dizzy continued, and Noll clearly couldn’t keep track of them both, especially Dizzy’s black-and-blaze-orange fur in the firelight. Dizzy took vicious swipes at his exposed ankles and Roman slashed him from behind – Noll spun to fight Roman, and Dizzy leapt up to land on his shoulder and slash the back of his neck.

They moved like that, perfectly in tandem, almost mesmerizing, and Patton found he was too stunned to be scared, his heart turning from hammering to a strange little flutter. That was… maybe slightly concerning, but Patton put that in the think-about-later-box and tried to focus.

He’d been so transfixed he hadn’t realized what Dizzy and Roman were actually doing – Noll dove for Roman, and Roman stopped cold, took it like a football tackle, and dragged Noll with him into the bonfire.

Screaming _erupted,_ and Patton almost leapt up, but Virgil squeezed his hand and pushed down on his thigh, and Patton remembered.

It went on for what felt like hours, incoherent – Patton realized abruptly that Roman must be holding Noll down – and then Patton heard what sounded like words, but he couldn’t quite make them out.

Roman stepped out of the fire immediately, dragging a horribly burned Noll by the hair and throwing him to the ground. Roman was unharmed, though his shirt and pants were singed all over and burnt through in several places.

“Could you repeat that?” he said, oddly bright in spite of being out of breath.

Noll let out a strangled groan of pain.

“It wasn’t actually a request,” said Roman, shoving him with his foot.

“I said I _yield_ you son of a bitch,” Noll snarled, before gagging abruptly and screaming again.

“Delightful,” said Roman, kicking him over on his back. “Now, remember how I said I wasn’t Unseelie?”

Roman crouched down next to him, and Patton prepared to close his eyes, sure Roman was going to put his knife right through Noll’s throat.

“What I am,” said Roman, smiling viciously. “Is a _witch_.”

Dizzy made a low vibrating growl, and then, strangely, started walking in circles around Roman and Noll.

“A curse,” said Roman, his voice low and his smile deadly. “On your life and your body, for as long as I live and longer still after I die, on and on until my bones are dust.”

The smell of burning flesh grew thicker even though Noll was no longer in the fire – it choked the air, and Patton coughed slightly as it grew stronger and stronger.

“May your blood rot and your heart shrivel and your skin turn to ash; may you walk the earth seeking joy and never find it; may you know only misfortune, misery, and squalor for the rest of your life.”

The clearing was heating, sweltering even in the middle of December – more fae were beginning to cough, and Patton saw a few Winters retch. Virgil seemed mostly unaffected, but there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead.

All of it- it prickled something familiar in the back of Patton’s head.

 _Greta Fischer,_ he realized. _Her ghost. It smelled the same._

“May you die, alone and unloved, unremembered, unremarkable in a nameless hovel and be buried in an unmarked grave.”

Dizzy completed her circles, sitting solemnly on the other side of Noll from Roman. Roman picked up Noll’s hand in his, wrenched it flat, and pinned it – he brought up his knife in his other hand and carved a shape Patton couldn’t make out into his palm.

“An Unseelie would have killed you,” said Roman. “And you would have been _grateful._ ”

He stood, turned, and left Noll lying in the dirt, making his way over to the three of them.

“Roman?” said Logan in a small voice, the first word he’d spoken since this started, his wide-eyed gaze locked on the intense look on Roman’s face.

“Hey, Specs,” said Roman, his voice all at once trembling with unrestrained softness, just the same as he ever was.

Tossing his knife to the side, Roman dropped to one knee in front of Logan, cupped his face – smearing blood on one cheek – and dragged him forward to kiss him.

Bell burst into cheers, and the crowd followed. Logan shivered in spite of the heat lingering in the air and all at once slid off the seat to kneel in front of Roman and enthusiastically return the kiss.

The roaring crowd grew louder – in the corner of his eyes, Patton saw whole groups of Seelie begin to drag each other into circles, dancing around Noll, burnt and trembling and still laying in the dirt like he wasn’t even there.

But Patton couldn’t look away from Roman.

Logan and Roman broke apart with breathless gasps – Roman was dirty, clothes singed, streaked with his own and Noll’s blood, and he still somehow managed to look so gorgeous Patton wanted to kiss him until his head spun.

“Sorry,” breathed Roman. “Adrenaline.”

Logan looked totally stunned, his eyes round and his ears flushed a bright pink.

“It’s- fine,” he said, voice unsteady, “I- good, even,”

Roman grinned, crooked and daring, and Patton felt his own face flushing.

Virgil gingerly laid his hand on an unburnt part of Roman’s sleeve.

“May I kiss you?” he said, looking at Roman more like he wanted to eat him alive.

Roman turned that look up at Virgil, smile turning coy.

“You may, my love.”

Virgil lunged for him with a growl so low Patton felt it in his ribs more than he heard it – Patton heard the think-about-later-box rattle a little and thought maybe a bit hysterically that living in fairyland for almost two years might have permanently scrambled his turn-ons to some weird settings like _blood_ and _stabbing_.

“Do I get a turn?” he crooned when they broke apart, unable to contain himself. Reaching across Virgil, Roman pulled Patton forward by the back of the neck and kissed him over Virgil’s lap. He was getting blood in Patton’s hair, which should not have been hot but was definitely, undeniably hot.

Also hot was Roman’s mouth, even more than usual, languid and burning like creeping lava – Patton moaned faintly against his lips, and Roman’s mouth smirked against his.

“Having a good time?” he purred.

“Oh, you can hush,” muttered Patton breathlessly.

A very loud meow sounded from Patton’s ankle area, and Patton left Roman with a quick little parting peck and reached down to scoop up Dizzy with a coo of fondness.

“Dizzy-cat!” he said brightly. “Such a brave girl!”

Dizzy purred loudly, and Roman rolled his eyes.

“Oh shut up,” said Roman, clearly addressing Dizzy. “Smug little ambush predator, I could have handled it.”

Dizzy visibly rolled her eyes right back.

“Um,” said Logan softly.

Four sets of eyes turned to him, and Logan looked distinctly sheepish.

“Could I- would it be acceptable for me to hold Dizzy?”

Dizzy made a happy little chirp, hopping across Virgil’s lap to curl up happily in Logan’s.

Logan scooped her up and cradled her against his chest, rubbing his face in her fur.

“Thank you both,” he said quietly.

Roman face softened, and he pulled down his sleeve to wipe off some of the blood he’d gotten on Logan’s face.

“Anytime, my love,” he said softly.

Patton leaned his head on Virgil’s shoulder, grabbing Roman’s hand to squeeze and reaching over to put a hand on Logan’s knee.

They all crowded close – something brushed against the back of his head, and Patton realized it was Bell.

“Impressive,” she said.

“I appreciate the compliment,” said Roman, something vulnerable in his voice.

Bell laughed a little.

“Enjoy each other,” she said fondly. “I’ll deal with the almost-corpse.”

Roman laughed, too, and Bell patted him on the shoulder as she walked away.

The revel continued around them, and Patton let himself relax.

—

Seeing Roman like that had been an experience – the worry for him, the adrenaline of watching the fight with unyielding focus, and then the sight of him, breathless and victorious afterwards.

It had taken all of Virgil’s restraint not to abandon the revel entirely, take Roman home to Virgil’s bed and show him exactly how gorgeous Virgil found him.

But they had stayed – the want had cooled over the following hours until it was a low simmer, a hum of desire in the back of Virgil’s mind. The revel ended, _finally,_ and Virgil guided all of his loves back to the hill.

But Virgil could tell something was wrong. Logan had grown more and more quiet, and by the time they reached Virgil and Patton’s room, Patton was exchanging worried glances with Virgil, biting his lip at the unhappy furrow in Logan’s brow.

They entered, and Logan didn’t say anything. There was a large basin of water, charmed to stay clean and warm in the corner, and Logan immediately went over to it. He took a cloth from beside it, wetted it, and returned to Roman’s side.

“May I?” he said solemnly.

Roman was frowning with worry, but he nodded. All four of them sat on the bed, and Logan began to wipe the blood from Roman’s face, hands, and arms. Between Virgil’s soothing kisses and Logan’s own push of life-magic, they had mostly healed the wounds themselves, but they’d been short ways to clean up the evidence.

“Hey, Logan?” said Roman gently.

Logan hummed.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

Logan hummed again, mouth pinching in distaste, and Roman reached for his other hand and stroked the knuckles.

“Babe?”

“… This should never have happened,” said Logan almost inaudibly.

“I know,” said Roman, visibly squeezing his hand. “I’m so sorry, Logan, I shouldn’t have left you alone with him.”

“You misunderstand,” said Logan softly. “You should not have had to fight him on my behalf.”

Roman frowned immediately.

“I’ll always protect you, Logan,” he said, just a touch indignant.

“But you shouldn’t have _had to_ ,” Logan repeated. “I should have defended myself.”

“Hey, no-” said Roman, visibly upset.

“It’s winter, L,” said Virgil gently. “It’s not something you need to be ashamed of.”

Logan twisted his hand, and the headboard bloomed with hyacinth.

“I am tired, and weakened,” said Logan. “I am not helpless. When Patton was accosted similarly last year, it was autumn, and I responded competently. It is ridiculous that I would-”

“ _Logan_ ,” said Roman, strangled.

“That I would be so _weak_ ,” said Logan, voice cracking. “It was one kiss, hardly a- I should have done, _something_ , but I just- I just _froze_ , it was so awful I-”

“It’s different,” said Roman, cutting him off and cupping his face. “It’s different when it’s yourself.”

Virgil’s heart ached for them both, and he pressed up against Logan’s back as Roman gently bumped their noses.

“It’s different,” he repeated. “When it’s someone you love it’s easy, because it’s all- it’s all instinct, and love always makes us braver you know? But when it’s yourself it’s-”

Roman’s eyes spilled over with tears, and Virgil made a mournful noise, reaching over to stroke his love’s hair.

“When it’s yourself it’s so much _harder_ ,” said Roman wetly. “Because – because you’re more scared than anything else, and being brave then it’s like- like trying to swim against a current.”

Logan had started crying too, and Roman wiped his tears with his thumbs.

“But that’s okay,” he whispered. “Because- you’ve got me, yeah? And I’ve got you. We’re all- we’re all in it together, the four of us, and we can- we can protect each other.”

“Yes,” said Logan, quiet and intense. “ _Yes_ , Roman I- of course.”

Virgil pressed a kiss to the side of Logan’s throat.

“Together,” he murmured.

“Oh, honey, me too,” said Patton thickly, crawling around behind Virgil to press wet kisses to Logan and Roman’s cheeks right after each other. “I love you so much. I want nothing bad to happen to you ever.”

“Never,” breathed Roman, clutching at Logan’s side. “Logan, I’d fight the whole court for you.”

Virgil let out a strangled groan into Logan’s neck, and Patton had the audacity to giggle.

“You okay over there, honey?”

Virgil gave him a flat look.

“… What am I missing?” said Roman, wavering between the softness of before in confusion.

“Oh, you couldn’t tell?” said Patton coyly, dropping a second, slower kiss to Roman’s cheek.

Roman shivered, bumping his nose to Patton’s and smiling a little.

“Tell what?” he laughed.

“You were-”

Logan cleared his throat.

“That is- when you- fought, it was rather, um-”

“Hot,” said Patton plainly, making Logan sputter.

Roman laughed again, louder, looking between the three of them – Virgil was sure his own thoughts must have been incredibly obvious on his face.

“Yeah?” said Roman, sweetly, stroking a hand down Logan’s neck and looking up at Virgil through his lashes. “Maybe I’ll have to pick fights more often.”

“You’re incorrigible,” Logan muttered, leaning into Roman’s hand. Virgil slipped off the bed to kneel in front of both of them, sliding his hand up Roman’s thigh.

“You were lovely,” he murmured. “Strong, and gallant.”

“Oh that’s cheating,” hissed Roman, flushing immediately.

“Whatever do you mean, Roman?” said Virgil smugly.

Roman leaned down to kiss him quiet, and Virgil figured there wasn’t much to complain about there. Logan leaned over to nuzzle Roman’s throat, and Virgil heard Patton start humming happily in between little pecks to Roman and Logan’s shoulders.

“Would you like me to prove it?” purred Virgil.

Roman languidly draped his arms around Virgil’s shoulders.

“Please do.”

**Author's Note:**

> you can also find me on [tumblr](tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors.tumblr.com) and in the [laoft discord](https://discord.gg/hbVEVcB)


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